


Am I your boyfriend or your prey?

by Lucivar



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: BAMF Betty Cooper, BAMF Jughead Jones, Banter, Betty Cooper Loves Jughead Jones, Betty trying to be human, Biting, Choking, Demon Blood, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fight Sex, Jughead Jones Loves Betty Cooper, Magic, POV Jughead Jones, Rough Sex, Sexual Humor, Vampire Bites, demon hunter jughead, gratuitous swearing (as per usual), succubus betty cooper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:55:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27207727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucivar/pseuds/Lucivar
Summary: Demon Hunter Jughead has been dating a gorgeous blonde in the Dreamscape and Cheryl points out that she might be a succubus…He summons her to find out the truth.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 53
Kudos: 113
Collections: 8th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees, Riverdale Kink Week





	Am I your boyfriend or your prey?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cherlynne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherlynne/gifts).



> Massive shout out to **theheavycrown** who created this prompt but also is so fucking awesome AND an artist! <3

“What a fucking day,” Jughead laments aloud. 

He has just returned home after a gruelling day of ghoulie banishment, energy reserves drained and ready to fling himself into the welcoming duvet at a moment’s notice. 

Because he was raised well, he takes his time to shower off the grime of the day before he ruins his linens. 

Jughead is impressed that he goes so far as to wash his legs, which are covered in grease and stained with acrid-smelling ghoulie ashes. 

As the King of clan Serpent, he is the demon hunter that leads the force to keep Riverdale safe. He comes from a proud line of demon hunters. Both FP II and FP I before him upheld the safety and sanctuary for the unsuspecting humans that dwell in this star-crossed town. 

It’s a lifestyle that suits his penchant for danger and violence; he gets to unleash his wild magicks against the night crawlers and demons to keep the humans safe. 

It’s his birthright and his responsibility…

But he probably doesn’t take it _as_ seriously as he should, because, to Jughead, danger is a sweet thrill. There aren’t many creatures that can put up a fight to make him sufficiently fear for his life; he is an exceptionally powerful demon hunter, the likes of which the Jones clan has not seen for centuries. 

Tonight, it’s warm and the mood is right (aka: _fuck it, I cannot even…_ ) for Jughead to drink a pint of blood wine (fortification!) before collapsing into bed without a lick of clothing covering his frame.

After downing all the blood wine he has in his stores, texting the Serpent group chat for them to send more his way (they all declined, claiming he needed to “stop getting high on their supply” and “fork out his own coin for liquid energy” before telling him to get his “sorry, emo ass to bed” – the last one was Cheryl, obviously) he stumbles up to his room, throwing his towel over the railing and letting the warm night air caress his naked body. 

Jughead pushes open the door and practically jumps out of his skin. 

He shuts the door again and thinks furiously, _Did I drink some bad blood? Am I hallucinating? Why is there a leggy blonde on my bed? Did I summon her by accident?_

Let it be known to all in the land that at this point it fails to cross Jughead’s mind that he might be about to – ah – indecently expose himself. 

He pushes open the door again and, face alight with a cocky grin, says, “Hey baby, I must have conjured you, because you’re too perfect to be real.”

But it’s like shouting into the void, because the blonde doesn’t move. Now that Jughead is standing in the room, lit by his many decorative lamps (all gifts from Sweet Pea, whose religion revolves around “I love lamp and ladies” and that’s pretty much it), he really takes a look at the infiltrator. 

The first thing that crosses his drunk-ass brain is: _Fuck me dead, she’s an absolute babe._

The blonde is splayed out on his bed in a fine lace dress that hugs her exquisite curves, reading a book. She’s the most gorgeous creature that he’s ever seen or hallucinated and he uses all his will power to resists sliding into bed next to her, tucking his hands under his chin and just staring at her pretty face while she reads. 

He sighs. _Is it weird that I want to touch her?_

It’s at this precise moment that Jughead registers the second and third things: his state of deshabille and those _precise fucking words_ that just spewed forth from his _fucking mouth_ and subsequently flushes with embarrassment. 

_Yikes, lucky she didn’t hear that._

It’s at this point that Jughead decides to put boxers on. He’s no heathen. 

Well, not _that_ much of a heathen. 

He can almost _hear_ Cheryl’s judgmental “Mmhmm” in his mind as that thought deigns to cross his consciousness. 

Well, it depends on whom you ask, to be fair. 

“Hey,” he says softly as he approaches, arms wide to show he is not carrying any physical weapons; “Are you real?”

She trails her fingers through her hair and hums, but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge his existence. 

Jughead has to admit that this is the most disconcerting part of the whole experience. 

He is used to girls of any magical denomination finding him hot. He would have though that it was his demon hunter blood, but his dad has never quite commanded the same response in people (and lucky he didn’t have to watch people fawning over FP, as that would be cringe-worthy). 

In short, it takes Jughead very little time to get a girl’s number… or anything else he wants. A casual touch, a smirk, a hot gaze and she would be gagging for it. 

This creature, however, doesn’t seem to live in his plane of existence. He wonders if she is from the ethereal planes, much like an angel. 

She’s certainly beautiful enough to be an angel. 

He sighs and walks around to his side of the bed and slides under the covers. The blonde stirs momentarily, but it’s to turn a page. 

Jughead props himself up and looks at her, if she can’t hear him, then he can say what he likes, right?

“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, real or not,” he says sincerely and then, because she doesn’t react, he turns off the lamps, tucks himself in, pulls off his restricting shorts and falls dead asleep.

When Jughead awakens, he’s in his room, but it doesn’t _feel_ like his room. There’s a glowing, ephemeral quality to it that lulls him into a feeling of contentment. He feels himself relax; he unclenches his shoulders and tucks his hands behind his head. 

He sighs. As as soon as the breath leaves his lungs a weird feeling dances across his chest. It feels like lithe fingers caressing him and suddenly his whole body is aching to be touched like never before. 

_If this is a dream,_ Jughead hums softly, lazily trying to identify the source of the phantom fingers, _Then this is already more erotic than my past sexual encounters. Well done imagination, you get better every day. First that hot blonde and now this? Ten out of ten._

It’s fair to say that he’s revelling smugly in his smutty magic abilities at this point. 

_Dad always said that I had untapped potential,_ Jughead snorts and closes his eyes in pleasure as the phantom fingers dip into the grooves of his chest. _Turns out it’s the power of sexy dreams._

“Oh this is not a dream.” A melodic voice filters though his consciousness and Jughead’s eyes fly open. “But you are in the Dreamscape.”

“Who said that?” he hisses, covering his nipples as if creepy phantoms couldn’t pass through down-feather duvet covers to stare at his goods. 

Jughead watches as the air in front of him shimmers and small whorls of iridescent colours blend together, bending prisms of light as a blonde woman materialises on his lap. 

_Her!_

Now her face is close to his, he gets a much better look at her. She appears human (for the moment at least), with gorgeous green eyes and long, soft blonde hair that cascades around her perfect face. Never in his life has he seen someone so _beautiful_ and he’s already dreaming about threading his fingers through her hair, tipping her face back and ravishing that pouty pink mouth of hers. 

“Hello to you too,” she purrs and sits back in his lap. She must be hovering above him because he can’t feel the weight of her across his thighs. 

It surprises him how much he wants to feel the heat of her legs wrapping around his own. 

_Sweet Lilith, she could be fucking demon!_

“I’m Betty,” she murmurs and it’s like her voice is honeyed sweetness and he can _taste her name_ on his tongue.

“I’m Jughead,” he responds, _and I’m fucking naked underneath these sheets baby…_

She smirks and says, “Oh I know.” 

She stretches luxuriously over his legs, but he still can’t _feel her._ He can, however, see that the lace dress she was wearing earlier is in fact made of spider’s silk. 

_Demon armour,_ he thinks to himself grimly. Spider’s silk is known for its tensile strength and that particular lace design looks like it could stop a silver bullet dead in its tracks. 

“Huh?” he says distractedly, because he needs to figure out a way to get himself out of the potential trap she’s weaving around him with her hellish demon magicks. 

“I know that you’re Jughead and naked,” she smirks at him. A bolt of heat shoots through him involuntarily. “It’s such a great combination.”

_Can she read my mind?_

“It’s as if you’re whispering in my ear, Juggie,” she croons, tilting her head to the side, a small smile playing about her lips. 

“Are you a demon?” he asks softly, but with a dangerous undercurrent. 

She grins and fluffs her long blonde hair. Sparkles dance off her skin like she’s angel-kissed. 

_Nothing this beautiful could be evil, right?_

Betty crawls up to him and over his legs to sit in his lap. She’s impossibly close and it makes his throat go dry. 

Jughead makes the mistake of looking into her eyes again, and as soon as he’s drowning in her viridescence, it’s as if his mind is wiped clear. 

_Sweet hell, she is gorgeous though._

She strokes a lithe finger along his cheekbone and _sweetsinfulfuck_ the touch is beyond anything he’s ever experienced in his life. It’s like every cell in his body is responding to her presence and he’s actually trembling with desire. 

_What the fuck is wrong with me? Do I have a fever? Why am I so turned on by this?_

“What are you doing here?” he asks curiously, “And what, for that matter, am I doing here?”

“We…” she starts and then tilts her head to the side before scrunching her face adorably, “Matched… I guess you could call it?”

“Matched?” he squeaks, “Like some sort of Tinder I didn’t know about?”

Betty blushes and Jughead watches in delight as a light dusting of colour suffuses her chest.

_She is so pretty though…_

Betty bites her lip and shrugs at little before saying, “You called to me in your dreams?”

The fact that she ends it in a question troubles him. 

“So you’re some sort of dream fulfilment?” Jughead asks feeling heat flood him as he tries to make his brain work against his libido with limited success, already dreaming of exactly the kind of fulfilment he’d enjoy.

“Pretty much,” Betty smirks at him.

They stare at each other for a moment and then she asks innocuously, fluffing her golden hair in a very mesmerising fashion, “How was your day?” 

Honestly, nothing could have prepared him for _that._

“Huh?” he says stupidly still staring at her hair. 

Betty looks momentarily worried by his reaction. “Uh… I thought that human-based creatures like to talking about themselves and the general quotidian happenings?”

Jughead snorts, “Are you reading about how to be a human from a guidebook or something?”

She pouts petulantly and he hates to admit how adorable it is. 

_She could be trying to kill me and eat my heart or some shit!_

She smirks at him and he figures she has read his mind again. 

_Damn it, she’s in my head._

Betty turns to him and chirps, “Okay, well what should I ask instead when you come to the Dreamscape to visit me?”

His ears prick up at this. “Oh so I will see you again?”

Betty nods and flashes him a cute little smile. He wants to nibble her lips. “Yeah now that we’ve bonded in the Dreamscape, we can meet here.”

“Mmm… wait… Can’t you leave the Dreamscape?” Jughead asks curiously. 

Betty gives him a small smile and shakes her head. “Not easily. Not without help.”

His eyes narrow. _That’s such a demon thing to say…_

Betty smiles at him innocently. “In any case, why would I want to go anywhere else? I’m happy to just hang out here.”

Jughead looks at her sweet, placid expression and says, “Uhh, what will you do here?”

Her eyelashes flutter like wings across her pale cheeks. “Talk to you, Jughead. I want to know about you. Tell me everything.”

And, like he’s under a compulsion spell, he does.

~~~

It’s like that some nights. They talk for hours about their favourite movies, books and music. 

Through this, Jughead learns a lot about Betty and tries to discern if she is a demon or not through a cleverly designed system called: asking her. 

He complies a comprehensive (by his words) list of _the things that could mean Betty is a demon:_

She emphatically believes that all humans are prey. But then, Jughead sort of believes that humans dumb enough to be prey, so…

She finds the violence in Tarantino’s films amusing. But then, so does he. She seems to have a love for danger than rivals even his own, so that thrills him. When he asked her about riding motorcycles she snorted and said, “Have you ever had sex on a moving motorbike?” and Jughead lost all moisture in his mouth and thought he might just be in love. But, she still could be a demon. 

She worships Lilith and Lucifer, which frankly just screams “demon” to him. Yet, on second thought, religion in demon clans is complex, and she could just be joking? She constantly looks like she wants to laugh at him, so that needs to be taken in to consideration as a point in the “fucking with him” column. Plus demon hunters are notoriously atheist, so maybe he’s being too judgmental of her? She’s very funny though, which is not a quintessential demon trait. Demons are meant to be scary and not funny, right? 

She listens to a lot of rock and death metal. Classic demon music, but its also what they play at the Wyrm because he really loves it. He can’t be too harsh about such a hot babe having the same music tastes as him because that would be both hypocritical and not fair to someone so gorgeous. She is _so pretty._ Someone so pretty just can’t be a demon, can they?

She has a tattoo of an upside-down pentagram on her, which is a very Satan-worshipping, demon-like thing to have. Well, Jughead has a snake tattooed up his side and if one were to judge through a biblical lens… snakes caused humans to be cast out of the garden, so… by that logic, he might as well be a demon. 

In fact, by his own very ingenious (by his own decree) logic, if Betty is a demon, then he must be too.

So that must mean she can’t be a demon. 

Let it be known to all in the land that several years ago Jughead _barely passed_ Logic 101.

Plus, she bakes cupcakes, reads poetry, writes mystery stories, paints in watercolours, knits (????) and helps out at the local kitten shelter in her spare time. All of these activities are distinctly un-demonic. 

So, by all accounts, she cannot possibly be a demon. 

_You settled that one nicely, Jones,_ he commends himself on a fucking job well done. It’s not like he can use his normal magical methods to figure her out, because the Dreamscape defies physics. 

And other nights, when he’s not trying to figure out what the hell she is (or how she can be so cute and amazing), Betty proceeds to slowly drive him insane with lust. 

He can’t touch her, so he just lies there, letting her run her gentle fingers across his exposed skin, the contact sending vortices of arousal through him. 

He has never felt anything so fucking erotic in his life, and this is just through her touching him. With her fingers. 

Sometimes she brushes her mouth across him and he feels like he’s going to black out from the boiling feeling under his skin. It feels like all his blood wants to leave his body and fucking join her or something. 

It takes him until the fourteenth night, exhausted and aroused beyond belief (he’s practically crying with lust at this point), to blurt out the stupidest thing he’s ever said to an otherworldly being (in his defence though, this one is the most exquisite), “You know I’m crazy about you, right?”

A look of shock dances across her face and she tilts her head to the side in a gesture with which he’s become so familiar. 

She’s so gorgeous.

“I’ve guessed from your thoughts,” she admits and her lips brush across his, setting his whole body on fire and him gasping at the sheer pleasure of it. “I think you’re pretty too…”

He tries to touch her, but his fingers can never connect with her skin, so he lets her run her hands also his naked torso.

“Can we meet in real life?” Jughead begs, not even caring anymore, “I mean, you’re only seeing me, right?”

She giggles in delight and then confesses, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Juggie.”

“Why not, Betts?” he demands, irately. 

“Isn’t it enough to know that I just come for you?” she purrs in his ear and he’s desperate to see her actually come for him. 

“For now,” he grumbles and she kisses his collarbone; her touch making him insane with lust. “But I am dying here, Betts, dying.”

She laughs, the sound pealing musically though the room and he hates that he thinks she’s perfect because she seems so out of his reach. 

But for now, she’s his.

~~~

“Aww you look so happy Jug,” Toni points out as he orders himself a cup of spiced blood wine from the barkeep at the Whyte Wyrm. “But somehow also like you’ve been punch repeatedly by an ogre?”

Cheryl, who is wrapped around Toni’s shoulders like a hand-crafted leather quiver, smirks and her glossy red lips curve into a speculative grin. “Is this because of your fake girlfriend?”

Jughead rolls his eyes elaborately. “Cheryl, she’s not a fake girlfriend. She exists.”

Cheryl cackles delightedly, “Yeah but, like, you’ve never met her in real life. You’ve just met her in the Dreamscape.”

Jughead takes a sip of his wine and lets the potency of blood enrich and fortify him for _this fucking conversation again._

“Cheryl,” Jughead starts warningly, “She’s real, I swear.”

“So who is she?” Toni asks and munches on a sugar cube like she’s a unicorn. “And why haven’t you met her in real life?”

“Yeah!” Cheryl says indignantly and then a wicked look crosses her face for a moment before she crows, “Oh my fucking god!”

“Jesus, Cheryl!” Sweet Pea interrupts jokingly, “Don’t blaspheme by bringing Abrahamic religions into the Wyrm.”

Cheryl slaps Sweet Pea across the chest with a perfectly manicured hand. 

“Dickhead,” she curses him and then whips around to stare at Jughead, her red hair fanning out behind her dramatically. “I think the Serpent King is dating a fucking succubus!”

“WHAT?” Sweet Pea exclaims in incredulity before cracking up with laughter. 

Jughead ignores them all and goes to sit in their favourite booth. Members of the otherworld clans incline their heads respectfully in his direction.

When Sweet Pea finishes wheezing, all of them look at him expectedly, eyes glowing with mischief. 

“She’s not a succubus, guys,” Jughead says, rolling his eyes. He feels like he needs to elevate the blood content of his meal if he’s going to have to listen to this nonsense for the rest of the night. 

“This is a delicious little tale!” Cheryl trills in exhilaration. “Our Serpent King is being “visited”- in the biblical sense - by a succubus!”

Toni opens the absinthe tap and watches it drip over the sugar cube into her glass. She says absently, “Succubi are really rare, Jug.”

“Precisely!” Cheryl agrees, pursing her glossy red lips. “How did your broody ass manage to capture the interest of a hellacious sex goddess?”

Jughead snorts loudly, “I think you mean to say “demon” there, Cher.”

Cheryl cackles and clicks her red fingernails together excitedly. “I think that’s a matter of perspective, don’t you?”

She flips her hair over her shoulder and alights on Toni. “TT, am I a demon or a goddess?”

Toni looks up from her glassware contraption and grins, “This is a trap isn’t it?” 

Cheryl pouts.

Toni laughs and decides to climb on to her knees in the booth. She pitches herself into Cheryl’s lap, cackling at her squeak of surprise. 

Jughead and Sweet Pea share a look as the two start getting hot and heavy on the table. Jughead moves his blood wine out the way of Cheryl’s hair. 

_Classic Mondays._

Sweet Pea takes a sip of his pina colada from a curly straw and coughs loudly, banging his chest repeatedly with his fist. “Damn this has so much chilli in it!”

Jughead smirks, “Dude, what the fuck is that?”

“A spicy Latina,” Sweet Pea informs him with a huge, shit-eating grin.

Jughead raises both eyebrows. “Is that a drink or a fantasy, Sweet?”

“That’s the rest of my night,” Sweet Pea smirks and inclines his head to the bar where a short, raven-haired cat-woman is cleaning glasses. She catches them both staring and blows Sweet Pea a kiss. He sighs, “She’s gonna shred me and I can’t wait.”

“Ooh she gave you a pink umbrella,” Jughead snorts. 

Sweet Pea looks excited. “What do you suppose it means?” he asks as if the colours are some satanic-cult-level sex-cipher. 

When Toni and Cheryl come up for air, Toni looks like she has been run over by a pack of angry wolves. Cheryl looks pristine, as always. 

Jughead suspects her fey magic must have something to do with it. 

“Don’t think we’ve forgotten about your succubus sexcapades!” Cheryl insists loudly. “Hey Jug, have you allowed her to succ-u-,”

“Nope!” Jughead waves his hands in front of his face. “Not having this conversation Cheryl!”

“Aww,” Cheryl pouts, “You don’t wanna tell us about the little sex trap that she has woven around you.”

“Betty is not a demon, she’s my girlfriend,” Jughead enunciates slowly, because this bitch just ain’t getting it.

Cheryl smirks and drums her fingernails on the sticky bench top before taking a measured sip of her sparkly cocktail. Her skin ripples with iridescent colours as she drinks. 

“Those two things are not mutually exclusive, my demon-fucking friend,” she smirks. 

Toni gives him an arched look, running her fingers though her hair to smooth it out, before turning to Cheryl and saying, “He doesn’t seem convinced. I think you’ll have to present your case.”

Cheryl stands up in her chair and puts one red-heeled boot on the table. She stares down at him using her magic to make her hair flow in an imaginary breeze so she looks like she’s atop a pile of demon bodies on a battlefield. 

He rolls his eyes at the fanfare. 

“To start!” Cheryl yells, and Jughead can already tell that she will draw a crowd with her antics, as usual. “You have been exhausted these last couple of weeks.”

She taps her toe emphatically on the table and makes a humming noise as if she’s contemplating a really complex problem. “Why could that be?”

“A succubus?” supplies Sweet Pea, and Jughead glares at him for enabling the chaos. 

“Precisely, Sweet!” Cheryl crows in delight. “And Jug, I know that you went to replenish your blood stores last week because you were so drained. Jug is a demon hunter, so blood should fortify him, not put him to sleep at the fucking wheel!”

“Why are you so drained?” Toni asks curiously, “Usually you get medically fortified every month, but that was mere _weeks_ apart.”

Jughead feels a bit weird that they all know his monthly blood cycles. 

Sweet Pea asks, voice heavy with mirth, “Is your succubus keeping you up all night with her teasing?”

“She can’t be a vampire,” Toni says thoughtfully. “Otherwise you’d be covered in little bites…”

“UNLESS THEY’RE ON HIS DICK!” Cheryl screeches in an ear-splitting voice of the tonal quality that would wake the dead. 

That _could_ wake the dead. 

Jughead really needs to make sure that no dead have been resurrected by Cheryl’s banshee screams about his dick. 

“Do you have bites on your dick?” Sweet Pea asks with a muffled voice, like he’s gnawing on the inside of his mouth to prevent himself from cracking up. 

_Such unhelpful morons,_ Jughead laments to himself, shaking his head. 

“No fucking way! On Lilith’s dishonour,” Jughead swears irately but his heart is pounding in his chest as he thinks, _oh fuck, what if my girlfriend actually considers me… prey?_

“I don’t believe you!” sings Cheryl in an annoying voice. Then she pauses and says, “Well regardless, succubi have fangs too… so she might like to bite you-,”

“You seem to be forgetting something very crucial here, Cheryl!” He interrupts, his voice rising at the end with a touch of hysteria. “I can’t enter the Dreamscape with my consciousness intact unless I’m an incubus or vampire! And may I remind you _that I am neither_!” 

Cheryl looks at him darkly. “Jug,” she says slowly, “You have no idea who your mom is… is it possible that your dad may have…”

“Knocked up a demon?” Jughead shrieks, hands flying to his hair in shock. 

“Tone down the theatrics, drama King,” Cheryl scoffs, which coming from her, is the richest of insults. He is annoyed when his best glare is wasted on her. She tosses back the rest of her cocktail and shivers delicately as the colours race across her skin. “Such a hammy performance.”

Jughead groans, worrying his hair in his hands.

“I mean, a sex demon lover ain’t bad, right?” Sweet Pea half-laughs half-coughs, and he’s staring at Jughead’s existential crisis with way too much glee in his eyes. 

Jughead moans pathetically and covers his face with his hands. 

Toni smirks, “Does she give it to you good, Serpent King?”

He flips her the bird.

“Ha! Don’t succubi kill their prey after they’ve seduced them?” Cheryl croons and bats her eyelashes up at him innocently. 

Jughead chokes. 

“But you do like it rough, baby cakes,” Cheryl pouts innocently at him. She then mimes the cracking of a whip and he flinches out of distress for his sanity at the image that conjures. “Maybe the best time will be your last time.”

She makes a slicing motion across her neck and mimes an elaborate dying scene.

“So hammy,” he tells her and she snarls at him furiously from her prone position in the booth seat. 

Sweet Pea snorts loudly and Jughead is wondering if he is recalling the instance where Jughead shattered all the windows in his house after a particular… sex encounter with a banshee... 

Or, maybe he’s thinking of the time where Jughead ended up covering in a thousand tiny little cuts. That as a wild night he barely remembers. Luckily he’s always had supernatural healing abilities… 

…from his mother’s side.

“Fuck…”

“Fuck is right, you hobo king,” Cheryl sings delightedly, “So how are you going to sort out your little girlfriend problem?”

Cheryl looks around the bar and then to him with a predatory look on her face. “Oh Lilith’s tits, I have the best idea.”

Jughead watches where her line of sight lands and freaks out. “No Cheryl, you crazy-,”

“FP!” Cheryl hollers across the Wyrm. “Just the DILF I need! Get here at once!”

Toni spits out a small mouthful of absinthe over the table. Jughead blushes profusely and groans again. Sweet Pea cackles and coughs from the spiciness of his drink (and the conversation), banging his chest repeatedly.

“Don’t worry TT,” Cheryl grins at her, “It’s just to get his attention. Oh look, FP is coming now. Goody.”

FP saunters up to their table and folds his arms, smirking down at them. 

He raises an eyebrow and says, “What’s a DILF?”

Cheryl bats her eyelashes and says meekly, “Demon Hunter I’d Like to help me Fix Jughead’s little girlfriend problem. The Hs are silent.” 

“So are most letters, apparently,” FP snorts and turns his gaze to Jughead, “What is it, boy?”

Jughead can think of literally nothing worse that having to explain to his dad that he, as demon hunter, has ended up _dating_ the most powerful of all demons, the succubus, so he stays silent. 

“Was Jughead’s mom a demon?” Cheryl asks without preamble, as usual. 

FP reddens slightly and splutters, “Uh… um… why?”

“Jughead is dating a succubus in the Dreamscape,” Cheryl rats him out, like the rat she is. 

“Oh my god, Cheryl-,” Jughead starts, furious to the high heavens. 

“BLASPHEMY!” Sweet Pea cries dramatically. 

“-are you fucking twelve?” Jughead finishes as if he wasn’t just interrupted by god-fearing (to the distinct and literal definition of the word) Sweet Pea. 

FP rounds on Jughead, “You’re what? Jug, succubi are really dangerous!” Something dawns on him and he growls, “So that’s why you’ve been so tired lately! She’s been draining your energy through all her sexual feeding!”

“Please never use the words “sexual feeding” in front of me again, dad, I fucking beg you,” Jughead snarls, eyes wild. 

Cheryl murmurs something like, “You’ll be fucking begging soon, fuck boi,” but he can’t be sure. 

FP smirks, “Boy, you’ve got bigger problems than my choice of words. You’re cavorting with a demon and you’re a demon hunter…”

“Betty is not a demon!” Jughead slams his hands down on the table in fury. “She’s my girlfriend!” 

“Dude,” Sweet Pea interjects, with a look of unending patience and amusement on his face. “We’ve told you that she can be both at once!”

“FP, do you know how to rid yourself of a succubus’s attachment?” Toni asks him calmly while Jughead, Sweet Pea and Cheryl all glare and point at each other intensely across the table. 

“I’ll cut you, bitch,” Cheryl whispers venomously to Jughead. 

FP takes a seat at the booth, “Yeah, from memory, you construct a pentagram salt trap, but you need some sort of crystal for each intersection as well? I think it’s red jasper or something, but I can’t remember. You pretty much do an un-bind spell – like a reverse hand-fasting and that should be enough for someone of your – ah – power level, Jug.”

Toni says, “You could probably do it with just the salt trap. You’re pretty powerful Jughead.”

“Yeah just don’t get hard,” Cheryl cackles in manic glee. 

“What?” Jughead whips his head towards hers. 

Cheryl smirks, “Don’t succubi get more and more powerful the more energy they get? The more you respond to her, the harder –LOL sucker!- it will be to fight her off with brute force.”

FP nods, “It also depends how old she is too. The older she is the more powerful she will be.”

Jughead looks back and forth between his dad and Cheryl in alarm. “How can I know her age?”

FP shrugs unhelpfully, “Ask her?”

“Cut her open and check her rings?” Cheryl suggests with a wicked grin. 

Jughead snarls, “She’s not a tree, Cheryl, she’s-,”

“Your sex-demon girlfriend, we know.”

~~~

Later that night in the Dreamscape, Jughead asks Betty directly, “Are you a succubus?”

Her inquisitive green eyes lock on to his and she says, “Yes, though I thought you knew that.”

Her words cause tremors all over him, _Of course, deep down I knew that… I just didn’t want to believe it._

“If you didn’t know,” she smirks and teases him gently, “Then you don’t have a right to call yourself a demon hunter.”

He chuckles despites the slew of feelings roiling in his gut. 

Betty’s expression is kind. “Although, to be fair to you, you probably didn’t really recognise one of your own because you’ve been suppressing it so long with your demon hunter magicks.”

“Huh?” Jughead said stupidly. “I’m a…”

“Half incubus,” Betty informs him sweetly. “I can taste it on you.”

Her words send a lancing heat through him and he gasps, “Taste?”

Betty moves in closer and Jughead can feel her warm breath on his face. Her lips curve into a smirk and she purrs, “You can taste me too… stop fighting it Jughead… give in to your demon side.”

Her words coil sinfully inside him and he feels parts of himself unspool; the threads of his being tangled inside. “I can’t,” he gasps, holding on to the cords of himself desperately, _It’s all I’ve ever known!_

“You can,” she whispers and he feels her presence caress his skin. It’s as if his whole body hums in pleasure and all he is doing is sipping at her magic and letting it fuel him.

“Fuck,” Jughead murmurs raggedly, hard and aching. 

Betty smirks at him, “That was nothing, Jughead. That was barely a lick. If you open your senses, you’ll feel everything…”

_If that’s barely a taste… I’m going to drown in a fucking tsunami…._

“Am I your prey?” he asks, before he does something stupid (like summoning her without a demon trap just so he can touch her for real). “Or your boyfriend?”

Betty hums, “Both I guess?” She grins when she looks at him and he hates how adorable she is.

 _She just told you that she wants to devour you, literally, and you want to coo and stroke her hair and tell her she’s pretty? Fuck dude, you’re gone…_

“How can I be both, Betts?” He snarls.

_But she’s so fucking pretty though._

“Well,” she says slowly, “The demon consortium gave me your case files as a my first time, but I don’t think they knew that you were kind of one of us...”

“First time?” he gasps, hand flying to his chest in shock. _She’s so precious!_

She rolls her eyes elaborately at his expression. “Seducing prey, Jughead, not having sex. Divine Lilith! Give me some credit here! I’m a sex demon not a high-school human.”

“So what do you do when you seduce prey?” Jughead asks curiously.

Betty smirks, “Are you just taught how to be hot and scary at Hunter College? Don’t you know anything about high-rank demons?”

Jughead laughs because she is adorable as she scrunches her nose. “Yeah but, like, that was years ago.”

“Mmm well, as a lesson recap, we find our prey through the Dreamscape and work to seduce you – we can touch you, but you cant touch us in return – until you’re either driven so out of your mind with lust you ask us in, which is what we call “vampire rules” or you summon us, classic demon style,” Betty explains watching him carefully. “It seems like as a half incubus you can’t dream architect or touch me, but maybe you’re an incubus in all the other ways that count.”

The look she gives him sends shivers down his spine. 

Betty bites her lip and says softly, “Have you ever been – ah – with another succubus?”

Jughead shakes his head. “No baby, you’re the first.”

Betty’s smile is delighted and she licks her lips with anticipatory glee. “Oh yum, untouched incubus. You’re going to be wild, I can just feel it.”

Jughead splutters at her hungry expression, feeling heat flood him. 

“Plus, you’ve got all that demon hunter blood in you…” Betty hums in pleasure, closing her eyes. 

The sound vibrates through his body, sending delicious shivers coursing across his skin. 

When she opens her eyes to stare at him, Jughead can see the liquid heat and moans. She purrs, “You’re going to be delectable.”

“Betts,” Jughead groans as her words caress his fucking soul, “Please come to me, I fucking need you… Vampire rules, you said? I’ll invite you into any place just so you can touch me for real…”

Betty smiles and traces a finger across his cheek. The movement is chaste, but it sets him on fire for wanting it so badly. He can feel the pull in his own blood in response and he wants to let her devour him. 

He’s aware that he’s panting desperately. 

“Juggie, I want to, but I want you to be safe.” She looks a little guilty and chagrined when she says, “I think I’ve been drinking too much of your magic, so you won’t be able to fight me off and I could really hurt you... or worse…”

Jughead gulps, half considering the risk worth it. Cheryl may be right about the “fuck and die” scenario she joked about earlier. 

He rakes his fingers through his hair and croaks, “Fuck, okay, so am I destined to die if we sleep together?”

Betty laughs delightedly. “No, not at all. You’re half incubus, so you should theoretically be fine, I just need to give you some recovery time.”

“Oh merciful Morningstar, really?” His voice is pathetically excited. 

“Yeah, but that means I can’t see you for a week,” she pouts adorably. “I need to give you time to recuperate and you have to get your blood replenishment.”

She leans in to whisper her promise against his lips, “And then we can tear each other apart.”

~~~

The next week is spent in a series of fortifying activities. Jughead shamelessly blows off all his demon hunter duties to sleep, eat and work out. 

“Dude, where the fuck have you been?” Sweet Pea chastises him when he exits his dad’s office at the Wyrm one afternoon after a meeting. “Why do you have a blood _Replenishake_ in your hand?”

“Oh my fucking succubus!” Cheryl crows from around Sweet Pea’s broad back. “Is this your pathetic attempt at _bulking,_ Jughead? Holy fuck! You’re going to have sex with this demon!”

“Are you insane, Jughead?” Toni snarls at him. 

Jughead smirks and gives them a sassy little wave, “Sorry guys, can’t chat, I’m on the way to my medical.”

“Lilith’s tits!” Cheryl croons gleefully. “Again Jughead? You must be so fucking hard for her.”

Jughead smiles, “Yeah but she loves me.”

Sweet Pea shakes his head, “You are so dumb. She’s a demon, Jug. She can’t love.”

Jughead snorts and flips them the bird on his way out of the Wyrm. “I’ll show you all!”

“Jughead!” Cheryl shrieks after him, “You’re her fucking prey!”

He grins as he turns away thinking, _Oh I know and I am ready for it._

~~~

Monday night and feeling more alive that he has for the past month, Jughead casts his incantation standing in front of his salt pentagram demon trap. 

He watches in amazement as the iridescent colours swirl and his Betty appears in front of him _in the flesh._

Normally, in the Dreamscape, Betty wears delicate (but somehow armoured), white dresses. Tonight, she is dressed in the hottest outfit Jughead has ever seen with black leather thigh high boots and tiny black lacy lingerie. 

He can already feel himself drooling. 

“Hello demon hunter Jughead Jones,” she purrs and it’s as if he’s been living whole life in sepia tones because she has thrown him headfirst into a technicolour reality where he can taste _colours_ and he’s overwhelmed. 

She’s so much more beautiful in real life and his blood is boiling at the thought of touching her. He’s not even ashamed when his knees buckle slightly in the presence of her power. 

“Uhhh,” Jughead moans, voice sticking to his throat and heart pounding in his chest. The look in her eyes is delicious; a darkness roiling in that viridescence that makes him believe that she wants to devour him. 

_She probably does, Jones!_

She licks her lips and Jughead watches her small pink tongue leave a trail of moisture coating that perfect, pouty mouth. 

She looks down at the pentagram of salt and smirks. “Smart idea, but that won’t stop me from ravishing you, Juggie. All it does is dull the impact of my powers.”

“Dull?” Jughead chokes, clutching his heart, which is hammering a furious drum solo in his chest. “This feeling of my blood being on fire will get worse?”

Betty giggles and the sound enchants him. He feels it like a physical caress to his skin and shivers. “Oh yeah, you’re going to feel the high of your life.”

She pauses and smirks, “But afterwards, you will feel invincible.”

He stands there, frozen and gasping.

“Tell me how to let my inner demon out,” Jughead begs her and she nods, not moving from the salt circle.

Betty tilts her head to the side, and not for the first time, he’s struck by how gorgeous she is. “Reach out with your mind and touch me.”

Jughead closes his eyes, because it’s easier to stop chanting, _Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…._ when he’s not staring at the most exquisite creature in the universe. 

When he concentrates, he can feel a gentle rippling at the edges of his consciousness and there’s that scent, taste, _whatever it is_ that is Betty and he’s dying for it all over again. 

“Step through.” He hears her voice in his mind and he moves through the smoky barrier. 

He cries out in a mixture of pleasure and pain at the onslaught of sensations that pour over him and infuse with him. 

He stays still for a moment as the blending colours and scents dance across his skin and through his very being. 

And, suddenly, just like that, he can feel everything.

He can smell Betty’s arousal, a mouth-watering heady scent that is so much more than the honeyed sweetness his dull demon hunter senses identified. She’s complex, spicy and so sweet it makes him moan for wanting to lick her. 

“Mmm yes,” she purrs and he feels her voice like it’s a physical stroke, as if she is running her hands down his body. 

He feels like he’s free falling into a tempest. 

When Jughead opens his eyes, Betty is right in front of him. Her expression is heated and she murmurs, “Are you ready for this?”

He nods because he can’t trust himself to speak and he’s being torn into an impossible vortex in which she stands at the centre, commanding the maelstrom. 

Jughead fists his hands into her hair and the simple feeling of being able to _touch_ her sets his whole body alight with need. Her hair feels like spun silk in his hands and for some reason there is a growling, clawing feeling in his chest and he wants to fucking _bite_ her. 

She purrs, and the animalistic sound is raw and visceral and Jughead needs more.

He captures her lips in a rough kiss, too desperate (his whole fucking body dying for it) to be gentle and snarls. 

She tastes like liquid lightening.

He can feel his inner demon take over, sending his all his senses into over-drive commanding him to fight, fuck, bite and possess.

 _Take her right here and drink her power,_ his mind hisses, _You’ll be unstoppable._

Betty’s eyes are glazed and wild and Jughead knows she’s feeling just as insane for it as he is. 

That thought makes him impossibly aroused and he needs to claim every inch of her and mark her for his own. 

Betty digs her fingers into his back and rakes her nails down, shredding his skin. 

It’s so fucking hot; the stinging pain is mixed with a heady feeling of pleasure and he picks her up and throws her roughly against the wall.

Betty screeches as her back hits the plasterboard and Jughead’s wild for ravishing her perfect mouth. Her gasps mingle with his and he’s drunk on her, so hard and desperate. 

He bites her lip and she snarls a sweet promise of death, “Demon hunter, I am going to eviscerate you if you keep provoking me…”

“Come at me, my love,” he hisses at her, hands caressing her cheeks as he looks into her fathomless green eyes.

Betty grins and tosses him across the room with one hand. He can’t even feel the pain as he cracks the wall, sending fissures to the ceiling. 

His whole body is coursing with their combined magic and her power is incredible. He wants to drink it from her skin.

She stalks over to him and fuck it if she isn’t the hottest thing ever, demons be damned. 

The way she moves _is_ magic and he can feel the tendrils of her power reach out and tangle with his own, sending a fizz of electricity all over his skin. She stalks into his personal space and threads her arms around his neck, leaning in to his personal space.

“Juggie,” she croons and he’s panting like he has run a marathon, chanting for her touch in his head. 

She smirks and he knows that he’s projecting ever damn thought into her mind because he has no control over his newfound powers. 

Her fingers dance up his chest and he can’t move, can’t breath because his demon-hunter brain is telling him to destroy her (gorgeous, divine) demon ass, and his libido is chanting the sweet language of _fuck her delicious, tight body, Jones, you’re powerful enough to take a succubus…_

“I can feel your conflict,” she leans in and whispers in his ear. “It’s hot… ride it demon hunter…”

The thought of a wild, desperate tussle with this delectable creature in front of him makes his blood burn. 

_Ride me,_ she demands in his head.

She forces a litany of images through his mind: her on top with his cock sheathed inside her, him licking her breast as she throws her head back in ecstasy and her throwing him through a wall in violent passion. The whole thing is disturbingly real, as if he feels the curve of her breast across his lips or the liquid heat of her as she envelops him. 

He chokes on thin air and ruts desperately against her leg. 

He’s barely touched her and he is still more aroused than he has ever been in his sweet life. 

Betty bares his neck and bites him above his collarbone. There’s something hideously erotic about the feeling of her fangs sinking into his skin and he bucks desperately against her, dying for her heat.

He can smell the sweet metallic scent of his own blood and Betty’s magic strokes his entire body, pitching him into new heights of lust. 

“You taste delicious,” she whispers at his neck, her magic coiling around him and pulling him towards her, binding him against her. 

She moves the hair back over her neck and tilts it to encourage him. As she slides her own fangs out of his skin, she licks him gently to catch the remaining drops of blood. 

“Bite me, demon hunter,” she purrs at him, breath curling across his heaving chest, “Feast on my blood and know power like no other.”

Jughead has no fangs, but Betty nicks the skin of her neck with her nails and the _scent of her_ levels him. It’s the most intoxicating aroma he’s ever come across and he can feel the saliva coat his throat as he thinks about closing his lips over neck and drinking her. 

The feeling of lightning shooting through his body electrifies him. 

Betty presses his face in her shoulder and he doesn’t – can’t – think after that. Every cell in his body is screaming at him to possess her and he is throbbing in his jeans, insanely hard as he sups on Betty’s honeyed demon blood. 

He can hear a guttural sound and is embarrassed to realise it’s him, but the tsunami of sensations that crush him make him lose all ability to speak and nothing is more important than sinking his cock deep into Betty Cooper and feeling her come apart on him. 

“Yes,” she hisses, “Let it fuel you…”

He’s snarling, licking her, “Betts, fuck, you’re magic…”

“Evidently,” she smirks and shreds his shirt, not bothering to care if she is scraping her claws along his chest. The stinging sings to his blood and the vicious little dance thrills him like nothing else. 

The pain arouses him more than he ever thought possible and she whispers, “It’s better if it hurts” before throwing him over her shoulder and slamming him into the floor. 

Jughead rides the exhilaration of her sheer strength and loves the way the pain lances through him like a hot bolt of desire. He exhales sharply, “Destroy me, Betty Cooper.”

She grins, her eyes going wide as he sweeps her feet out from underneath her and she hits the floorboards bodily next to him. 

They both eye each other hungrily for a moment before launching themselves towards the other. 

His hands fist in her hair and she scratches her fingernails along his chest to dig into his shoulders as she tries to mount him. He pushes her down, enjoying the way her eyes glaze in pleasure as he holds her tightly and uses his spare hand to tear off her convoluted lingerie. 

He knows, as a pureblood, her power and strength eclipses his, but the simple fact that she’s _playing_ with him is all that matters – this is not a battle to the death but a fight to fuck. 

He groans as the material around her torso gives way and her breasts spill free. They’re prefect, like the rest of her and he grabs one in his hand, trying to be gentle, but not succeeding. The power inside him is crashing through his body and he can’t seem to control his strength responses. 

“Betts, I can’t…” he hisses, trying to convey his experience without words.

She takes his face into her hands and stares at him with her gorgeous green eyes. He feels a rushing feeling over his skin, cleansing him. 

“You can’t hurt me,” she assures him with a grin. “Give me whatever you want. I cannot feel pain at your touch.”

He leans forward and bites the soft flesh of her breast. Betty arches against him and presses her hips up to meet his. Jughead can feel how hot she is through her underwear and the feeling calls to him, as her whole body demands his singular attention. 

Her breasts feel perfect in his hands and Jughead laves her perky nipples as she keens against him, fingernails scratching at his arms. She’s right; the pain she leaves in his skin sends hot bolts through him that just stokes the fire of his arousal. 

Betty is fucking glorious in her abandon, snarling at him through perfect lips as she arches back and wraps her legs around his waist. Her heat brushes against his rigid cock and he gasps against her skin, grabbing hard at her breast and thrusting his hips. 

He bites her nipple lightly and Betty hisses, “Harder.”

Half his body snaps to attention to do as she commands, but the other half is perfect in its defiance and he rides the tide of his hunter blood and resists her, licking a stripe languidly down her breast to her stomach. 

“No, harder,” she insists with a whine and it’s fucking perfection to have his sweet little demon girlfriend begging for _him_ for a change. 

He chuckles against her skin and Betty tenses her stomach underneath him and growls. She threads her fingers through his hair and pulls his head up so he’s staring into her eyes. 

“Harder,” she demands, green eyes flaming.

His cells fizz in response and he snarls at her, “We go at my pace, Betts.”

She bares her teeth at him and tears her underwear off with her spare hand. That hand expertly manoeuvres at his belt and Jughead can feel every brush of her fingers along his erection and forces himself not to shudder at her touch. 

_Fuck it if she isn’t the most perfect creature ever._

“Fuck your pace,” she snarls at him and tugs at the buttons on his jeans. Betty turns her liquid green eyes on him. “Do you like your jeans, Juggie?”

He nods, “Yeah… why?”

“Well take them off before I ribbon them,” she orders, fingertips digging tantalisingly into his waistband. 

He swallows and nods, kneeling up between her legs so he can tear off his favourite jeans and throw them on the bed. Betty unwraps her legs from his waist and kneels in front of him. 

Jughead is frozen to the spot as she puts both hands on his thighs and ghosts her mouth over his underwear clothed-erection. His cock throbs painfully as if can sense her sinfully wet mouth is _right there_. 

Betty smirks up at him and spares no care for his underwear, tearing them to strips with her nails. 

Her hot mouth engulfs his rigid cock moments later and Jughead nearly blacks out from the sensation. It’s more intense, more perfect, more powerful than anything he’s ever experienced and he feels his blood roil and shimmer in response her exquisite movements. 

Her tongue caresses him and _vibrates_ against his length and he realises it’s her, she’s fucking _purring_ and the sound combined with the dark look in her eyes makes him feel beautiful. 

He gasps helplessly and steadies himself against the bed. He’s trying to hold himself up, stare at her movements and stroke his fingers through her hair but just makes a weird guttural sound in his chest. 

He’s so fucking high, so impossibly high and all he can do is try to steady himself against the waves of sensations that crest against his magic.

Jughead can see that Betty is pulling him against her, taking him further into her perfect mouth; her pink lips stretched around him. 

_Fucking perfection._

“Betts,” he chokes, riding the precipice and Betty scrapes her teeth down his length, which makes his whole body shudder desperately as he comes. The feeling sends tremors across every inch of his skin, likely the rippling of an earthquake and Jughead is panting and gasping for every drop of air he can breathe. 

He meets her eyes as she drinks him in, the fiery look making him moan pathetically. He’s dying for her to look at him like that forever. 

Betty levers herself off his length with incredible gentleness and stands in one fluid movement. 

“Fight me off,” she demands, her lips curving into a taunting grin. “No one has ever been able to.”

Jughead shakes his head with a wry grin, “I don’t think I even want to fight you off.”

“Come on, demon hunter,” she hisses and crooks her finger at him. “Come play with me.”

He can see her fangs and claws glistening in the lamplight but it’s the molten expression in her eyes that floors him. 

He suddenly is desperate for this night to never end and wonders how long he can string out sex for…

Betty pounces on him and throws him to the bed. The sooner they fuck, the sooner she leaves, so he now concedes he _has_ to fight her off, give her the ride of her life before she tosses him aside like the prey he is. 

Jughead grabs Betty in his arms and flips her so he’s straddling her on the bed. She grins excitedly at him and he can see her eyes sparkling in delight as she arches her body up to brush her lips against his. 

“Take me, fight me,” she demands, her sweet breath curling in his mouth.

His whole body floods with that sensation of tasting her again, and his Hunter senses are overwhelmed as his demon side comes roaring to life again, dying to fuck Betty Cooper into oblivion and watch her come apart around him, screaming his name like a fucking incantation of demonic worship. 

His cock brushes against her core, and she’s fucking hot and dripping and the sensation sets his skin aflame for wanting to drive himself inside her. 

He moans raggedly, “Fuck Betts, don’t leave me after this…”

Betty smirks and hooks her smooth legs, wrapped in those sexy as sin boots, around his waist, angling him towards her entrance. 

“I won’t,” she whispers and tilts her hips up, sliding her wetness against his aching cock. 

She’s so impossibly strong as she flips him over, slamming him to the floor with such force he feels the cracks in the hardwood under him. 

Betty is glorious on top of him as she arches up, running her fingers through her golden hair and rolling her hips to take him deep inside her clutching pussy. 

Jughead hears himself moan pathetically as he stills, the whole world narrowing the transcendent feeling of Betty’s hot, delectable body engulfing his own. 

His blood is boiling in a way that awakens his senses: he is compelled bite, possess and _own_ her. 

Jughead pulls his love on top of him and bites at the wound on her neck. 

Her blood kicks through him, electrifying and emboldening him and Jughead uses all that sweet power to thrust into her tight little demon body, drinking in the heady moans and hisses he elicits from her. 

“Yes Juggie,” she purrs and pushes herself over him, that choking tightness arresting him momentarily so all he can do is gasp and pant underneath her. 

“You’re perfect,” he snarls at her through a smile, “Demon.”

She grins and rakes her nails down his chest as she shimmies herself down over his length. “You’re beautiful, my prey.”

Jughead growls in frustration and throws her off him without ceremony. Betty keens in delight as she skitters to the floor, her eyes sparkling in excitement as he tugs at her ankles to slide her underneath him. 

Betty grins and responds by biting his shoulder and Jughead shudders as all his blood tries to tear itself from his body and offer itself to her. 

“See,” she hisses wetly at his shoulder, rubbing her slicken pussy along his erection as he shudders above her trying to hold as still as possible. “Even your blood knows it belongs to me.”

Jughead pulls her head back and slams his pretty little demon into the floor. She moans in pleasure as he thrusts into her hard, burying himself into her up to the hilt. 

“I’m your boyfriend,” he informs her, “You fucking love me.”

She smirks and he runs his hands up chest, lightly brushing her nipples under he places his hands around her neck. 

“Yes demon hunter,” she purrs at him tauntingly, “You’re my prey.”

He tightens his grip around her neck and his Betty looks so fucking _pleased_ with him as she pants and Jughead drives into her with a steady cadence, feeling her pussy grasp at him upon each thrust. 

“Boyfriend,” he demands, the pleasure of her surrounding him making him feel more insane and unhinged on each movement. 

She bites her plump lip and crooks an eyebrow before whispering, “Fuck me harder… Prey.”

Jughead snarls and rakes her fingernails down his forearms causing his hands to flex at her neck. 

Betty’s expression is hot and liquid, and Jughead wants to throw himself into her forever.

He pulls out slightly, feeling her clutch and suck at his cock as if begging him to stay and thrusts into her again with incredible slowness.

“Harder demon hunter or I will slay you,” she threatens, her voice breaking deliciously as he buries himself into her. 

“I know you can,” Jughead gasps, colours and tingling sensations dancing across his skin as her magic flares in concert with his. “So why don’t you?”

Betty is silent and Jughead takes it as a moment to thrust into her again, revelling in her arched back of pleasure and accompanying hiss. 

“Is it because you love me?” he taunts her softly and her nails carve rivulets into his skin. Her eyes are dark and molten as she glares at him. 

He thrusts into her again, keeping the pace agonisingly slow for both of them. 

“Say it!” he demands with the terribly slow pace that feels increasingly impossible to maintain with each stroke. 

Betty makes a screeching noise that sounds like it has been forcibly wrenched from her very core. “Yes!” she gasps, eyes wild, “I want you to claim me and I want to claim you as my own.”

Jughead feels this revelation course through him like none other. The significance of demon bonding is not lost on him and he chokes, grasping at her beautiful body with his fingers, trying to pull her into him. 

“Fuck, beautiful, I love you,” Jughead hisses as he stares into her fathomless eyes. 

She takes a small gulp of breath and whispers, as if she’s admitting something sinful, “I love you too.”

He can hear his victorious demon snarl reverberate thought him as he plunges into Betty with all the power she has been begging for. 

She cries out his name in a breathless chant and tattoos his skin with her nails. 

He loves the feeling and he fucking loves her. 

Jughead drives into her with such force that she’s screaming and the sound makes him wild. He bites her neck, sucking at the original wound and the power that courses through his veins kicks like a hoard of dragons as he thrusts into the beautiful little demon underneath him.

She tips her hips up to meet his with such power and force, he feels like she’ll throw him off if he’s not careful. 

“Betts, you’re fucking perfect,” he groans at her slender neck and licks up the welling blood, thrusting deep. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

The force at which she’s holding him in her dripping pussy is mind-blowing and the pressure feels like it’s going to crush him the more he moves.

“Perfect,” she snarls back and he can feel her magic pull at his blood like the swelling of the tide. “Because you’re mine now, Demon Hunter.”

_Ohsweetfuckyes_

Jughead opens his incubus senses and can feel ever contour of muscle, every ridge, every drop of moisture in Betty’s dripping core and he is flung to the edge with a hideous roar.

When Betty comes, Jughead can feel it level him; he can taste her all over his skin, his senses are filled and overwhelmed with _her_ and he thrusts into her one final time with a ragged, pained growl.

And subsequently blacks out.

When Jughead awakens, Betty has him lying on the bed and is snuggled up against his chest, staring into his eyes.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” she says and levers herself over him to kiss his lips with excruciating softness. Jughead moans pathetically anyway, the magic in his system swirling through him. 

“I’m glad you didn’t die,” she whispers against his lips with a cute little smirk, “You did so amazingly for your first time.”

Jughead feels weirdly proud at her words. 

“I think I’ll die if I don’t get to feel you again,” he confesses and she grins languidly. 

Betty runs her tongue along his bottom lip with a moan. There’s a thrumming feeling in his body as power dances under his skin. 

“Betts, I feel like I could fight a thousand demons like this,” he groans raggedly.

“Demon sex magic,” Betty says smugly. “You get hooked easily because the high is so addictive. It will wear off in an hour or so... but for the time being, you’re actually invincible.”

“Fuck…” Jughead murmurs, voice hoarse. Being part demon with a demon lover has an exciting amount of sexy perks. 

The primary one sitting right on top of him. 

A beautiful thought occurs to him and he cups her head in his hand and whispers against her lips, “Can we try the motorcycle thing before it wears off?” 

Betty’s eyes sparkle in excitement, “Oh you are so much fun, Juggie. Let’s go now!”

He does not need to be told twice.

~~~

The next week (what is time, anyway?), he and Betty stumble into the Whyte Wyrm, drunk on lust and looking thoroughly debauched. He just can’t keep his fucking hands off her long enough to do anything, and his Serpents have been increasingly annoying with their group chat asking if he’s dead at least twenty times a day. 

He growls, thinking that if he has to spend one hour without sinking into Betty Cooper’s divine demon form he will literally pass out or waste away. 

His idiot friends stare at him, slack-jawed, as he enters the room with his arm slung around the sex demon herself. 

“You demon fucker!” Cheryl recovers first as always to accuse him of something that he definitely did (and hopes to continue doing for literally ever waking moment forever more).

Toni elbows her and hisses confusedly, “Babe, that’s… rude?”

Sweet Pea just looks shocked, a pink umbrella tucked behind one ear. 

“Hi everyone, I’m Betty Cooper,” his love smirks at his hapless friends. “I’m Jughead’s girlfriend.”

Jughead hums and presses a kiss to her neck in pleasure.

“And he’s my prey.”


End file.
